


Prohibited

by Sybrant



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 01:54:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1710701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sybrant/pseuds/Sybrant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prohibition era USA. Total PWP. Eames makes the hooch, Arthur is a brat. Smut ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prohibited

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ylith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ylith/gifts).



> Trying to get back into writing so thought I'd stick up this little piece I never posted. Was originally going to be the first chapter of a fic but lost the flow so sorry if the ending seems a little abrupt.

Eames tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he pulled his truck to a juddering halt round the back of the town general store. This time of night the high street was normally fairly deserted, the bars and pubs having officially closed their doors when prohibition was forced through the backwaters 6 months ago. Nowadays if you were looking for a good time the out of town stations or farmsteads were the best places for a strong drink and a soft woman for the night.

That’s why Eames had been a little surprised and very dubious when an order had come in via the usual routes for a sizeable delivery for tonight, on the high-street to the General Store. Sheriff Cobb had been after Eames for years. Some family dispute no one could even remember the cause of had pitted Cobb’s against Eames’s for generations - Sheriff Dom Cobb simply being the most recent incarnation of the pointless feud. Not that Eames was doing much to help diffuse the situation of course. Any excuse to pull a fast one over a Cobb was not something that could be missed; his daddy had taught him that from a young age.

The little bootlegging operation he currently had going would be the icing on the cake for Cobb if he ever caught Eames in the act so he wouldn't have put the order past Cobb as a means of reeling him in. The heavy beat of stomping feet, muted sound of music and the gentle glow of light permeating from the entrance to the General Stores subterranean store room eased Eames's tension somewhat as he jumped down from the cab of his car.

"About time! This party was running a little dry!"

Eames tipped his head in greeting as Fisher Junior stepped out of the shadows and hurried to help Eames with the crates out of the back of his car, the jars clinking together loudly as Fisher stumbled on the stony ground.

"I'm getting the notion that some of that dryness may be in part due to yourself there Robert." Eames smirked as Fisher stumbled again, his grin a little too wide to be 100% sober. "Have you been at Yusuf's nasty ass bathwater again?"

Fishers reply was drowned out as Eames pulled open the cellar doors to be met with a wall of noise and smoke. Stepping carefully down the stairs into the dimly lit room, Eames was quickly accosted by eager hands; greedy fingers nearly knocking the crate to the ground as they clumsily attempted to reach the jars within. His rescue came in the form of Arthur, the General Store owners son who grabbed Eames arm, pulling him to a dark corner next to the stairs where some boxes had been set up for 'refreshments' of a sort - mainly a few ends of that mornings loaves, some dried meat and empty glass beakers that looked to have once contained Yusuf’s trademark brown water.

"Thanks for this Eames" Arthur grudgingly yelled in order to be heard over the musicians playing in the opposite corner of the storeroom.

"Don't need no thanking boy. This here was a simple business transaction." Eames couldn't help but smirk a little when Arthur scowled at him.

"I've told you before not to call me that! You're not that much older than me". Eames snorted, eyes running over the young man’s lean form before turning to place the crate down on the boxes.

"Darlin', 7 years ain't far off being your daddy in these here parts! Besides, you're far too pretty in the face to be called a man". Eames out right grinned as Arthur spluttered behind him.

Turning back to face the young shop keep, Eames stepped back against the damp wall to allow the sudden push of drunken bodies past him to the moonshine. Arthur elbowed through the crowd till he was pressed against Eames's side, skin flushed red in embarrassment even as his lips pulled downwards in a scowl.

"Did you just insinuate I'm not a man or was that some backwards attempt at a compliment? 'Cause I'll have you know I'm every inch a man you are! Here -" Eames was too shocked to resist as Arthur suddenly grabbed his hand and pressed his against his crotch, "now you say again this isn’t proof I'm a man".

Arthur stared at the older man, his indignation quickly disappearing as he realised what he had done. Dropping Eames's wrist Arthur felt his face flushing with heat again, his heart thumping in his chest almost drowning out the noise of the room. Eames grinned widely, leaning forwards to speak directly into Arthur’s ear.

"Every inch you say?" Arthur's breath hitched as instead of pulling back, Eames pushed his palm harder against the younger man, his fingers curling as he traced the defined shape through the rough material of his trousers. Arthur couldn't help the small noise that escaped as Eames pushed in closer, the older man’s stubble rubbing against his throat as his pushed his face into Arthur's collar. He held his breath as Eames breathed in deeply, his broad chest pressing Arthur tight against the wall as it expanded.

"I must say though Arthur, you're smelling a might sweeter than any other man I know".

Arthur jolted as Eames's thigh brushed against his crotch as the older man backed away slowly, turning as if to leave. He didn’t even think before reaching out to grip the other man’s arm tightly, fingers curling in the worn material of the older man’s shirt.

"Don’t...." Arthur wasn't even sure what he was asking for but Eames seemed to understand. Nodding towards the stairs Eames managed to herd the younger man into the dark cavity hidden between the stairs and wall. Wasting little time Eames pushed Arthur back against the wall, his fingers digging into the younger mans hips as he pressed his face back against the junction of Arthurs pale throat, teeth lightly nipping at the salty skin before soothing it with rough lips.

Arthur tilted his head to the side, chest heaving as his fingers twined in Eames's shirt. Arthur shuddered as he felt rough fingers tugging at his shirt, pulling it free from his suddenly constraining trousers. Warm hands wrapped themselves around his waist, strong fingers pushing bruises into the pale skin of his back as thumbs rubbed in circles down under the edge of his trousers. Arthur grabbed the front of Eames's shirt, fingers stumbling as they quickly unbuttoned the material. Eames leaned back slightly so he could divest himself of the clothing before returning to Arthurs neck, the pale column darkening with Eames's marks.

Arthur canted his hips forward, rubbing against Eames's thigh as his hands ghosted over the broad expanse of Eames's back. Acting on instinct he pushed the other man back, dropping to his knees as he eagerly yanked at the fastenings to Eames's trousers. Eames did nothing to help as the younger man pulled him free from his trousers, instead raising his arms to grab the slats of the steps above his head.

Arthur held the meaty weight of Eames in his palm, the heat of the other man warming his skin. Wrapping his fingers around the base Arthur eagerly licked at the swollen head, tongue greedily lapping at the pre-cum gathering at the tip. Licking his lips Arthur pressed forwards, mouth stretching wide as he struggled to take the other man in. Looking up he froze, lips stretched taut around Eames's cock as the other man stared down at him with a look so intense Arthur forgot to breath.

A crash from the main room broke the strange connection and Arthur slowly drew back, the ache in his jaw and feeling of saliva dribbling down his chin suggesting they'd been locked in the staring contest for longer than Arthur had thought.

For a man of his size Eames could move quickly. No soon had Arthur pulled back then he suddenly found himself on his back on the dusty floor, trousers and boots stripped from his body. Arthur bit back a shout as his legs were pulled apart, body tensing uncontrollably as a dry finger roughly pushed inside him.

Eames quickly spat on Arthur's hole, his finger gently moving about and spreading the saliva. Spitting again Eames added another finger, Arthur still incredibly tight around him. After several minutes Arthur started to shift, the tightness in his body easing as he started rocking back against Eames's fingers.

Unable to wait any longer Eames pulled his fingers out, ignoring the mewl of protest from the younger man. Scooting forward on his knees Eames pushed Arthurs pale thighs further apart before lining himself up and slowly pushing inside. Arthur grunted, fingers grabbing at Eames's thighs as the slow slide stretched him open further. Eames’s hands slid down Arthur’s thighs to grip his hips, lifting the younger man slightly as he pulled back before quickly snapping his hips forwards till his balls slapped heavily against Arthur’s backside.

Arthur’s hand flew to his mouth as he quickly tried to muffle the sharp noise Eames had brought forth, forgetting momentarily that there was little chance of being heard over the noise of the dance. Eames lent forwards, his spread thighs pushing Arthur’s wider and higher as he repositioned himself so he was almost lying on top of the younger man. Arthur wrapped his arms around Eames’s broad back, burying his face against the other man's throat as Eames began thrusting into him in earnest. Each slap of the bootleggers balls against Arthur as he drove in deep seemed to coincide with the beat of the bands drums; the heavy thump of the music echoing inside Arthur’s chest.

Arthur felt Eames’ thighs shifting against him, the other man wrapping his arms behind Arthur’s back and pulling. Arthur’s head spun as he suddenly found himself sitting upright on Eames’ lap, the change in angle making him keen louder than was strictly safe as the older man used the new position to grip Arthur’s ass, lifting the younger man as he continued to piston into him.

Arthur felt like his heart was about to burst out his chest. The dusty heat of the basement combined with the thumping beat of the party taking place mere feet from their hiding place swamped his senses, overwhelming him till they simply faded away, replaced by the feel of rough hands on his skin, the sound of rugged breaths and Eames’ rough grunts and the intense burn of the bootleggers possession of his body... it was too much. Arthur tensed, senses whiting out as all his nerves seemed to fire at once and an encompassing heat overtook him.

Slumping, it took Arthur a few moments to re-orientate himself, to realise at some point Eames had lowered him back on to the dusty floor and was thrusting into his spent body with sheer determination. Arthur rocked his hips in time with Eames, squeezing his ass cheeks together in effort to help the other man along. Eames’ chest was heaving with each shuddered breath, the scant light in their dingy corner highlighting the shine of sweat coating his skin.

It didn’t take long for Eames’ body to stutter, his muscles tensing in release as he slumped forwards onto Arthur’s chest. Arthur wasn’t sure if he imagined it, but he could swear he could feel the heat of the other mans seed coating him inside as Eames’s strong arms wrapped around him, claiming him in every way. Eames lent forwards till he was pressed against Arthur's chest, his head resting heavily against the young man’s shoulder as warm puffs of air ghosted over Arthur’s collar bone. Arthur lifted his arms, wrapping one around Eames’ waist and the other against his shoulder so he could run his fingers through the older man’s sweat dampened hair.

“Well...” Eames murmured against Arthur’s skin, “Alright then”.


End file.
